


Fractured World

by Descendant_of_Truth



Category: Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Basically everyone is at least going to be mentioned, Gen, There's laughter and angst but mostly everyone's just really stressed out, What a fine mess this timeline has become, Zi-o created this kettle of fish and I'm going to deal with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:33:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descendant_of_Truth/pseuds/Descendant_of_Truth
Summary: Emu wakes up one morning to find evidence that someone else has been living in his house. However, that someone is nowhere to be found, leaving him with more questions than answers. He finds himself wrapped up in the mysterious characters of "Parado" and "Poppy," who only seem to exist in his own writing and the items they left behind.On the same day, many people have gone missing, including Dan Kuroto, Kujou Kiriya, and Hiiro's girlfriend, Saki. Two incidents that seem unrelated soon prove to be more intricately linked than anyone could have imagined.





	Fractured World

When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is that his room is even more of a mess than usual. That wasn't concerning whatsoever--Emu knew his house wasn't exactly tidy, and simply assumes that he must have forgotten about making a bigger mess. No, what really set off the warning signals was his wardrobe.

There were his usual clothes, taking up most of the space in the closet--and beside them, clothes he had never seen before in his life.

He recoiled instinctively, slipping on something he left on the ground and knocking his bed frame. He sat there for a moment, clutching his head in pain, before his tired brain reminded him that now would be a good time to put some ice on it. Some doctor he was, getting injured out of his own clumsiness before the day even started.

When he stood back up, he hoped he'd find that the mystery clothes were just a result of his tired imagination. But there they were, real to the touch and not really anything Emu would wear himself. They were all black jackets and shirts with far too many colors and designs on them--and did one of those jackets seriously have cable cords attached to it?

So, definitely not his. Which meant only one thing--something that he probably would have thought of sooner if he wasn't still so tired--and it was that someone had broken into his house.

Emu froze at the thought, cautiously looking towards his bed room door, still ajar from how he left it last night. Whoever made their way into his room must have been careful. Oh god, what if they stole something? What if they were still in the house?!

 _Okay, breathe,_ he reminded himself. _Just calm down and maybe you can do something about this._ But what? What could he possibly do against a potentially armed burglar? He didn't feel safe leaving his own room (heck, he barely felt safe even standing in it), so he carefully made his way to his desk. He felt inclined to rush, but there were more tripping hazards in his room than usual and he didn't want to make too much noise.

But when he reached his desk, the only useful thing he found was his cell phone. Like that was going to do anything against a burglar. What was he supposed to do, throw it at them? No, what he needed was...

...What _did_ he need? What was he looking for? And--the cell phone. Of course, he should use the cell phone, he could call the police. How was that not his first thought? Did he seriously expect himself to fight someone? He was the least battle-competent person he knew, yet somehow the idea of calling the police was completely foreign.

So foreign, in fact, that he found himself dialing Hiiro-san's number instead. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he only noticed his mistake once the call was already being made.

He never wanted to punch himself as much as he did in that moment. How in the world did he manage to dial a full-digit number instead of pressing three simple buttons? He was just about to end the call when Hiiro picked up.

 _"This is Kagami,"_ came Hiiro's voice. Emu silently cursed him for being so diligent. Now he had to make his way through quite possibly the most awkward phone call of his life.

"Um, hi, Hiiro-san," he stammered, his voice cracking from tiredness and lack of use. Suddenly worried the burglar would hear him, he lowered his voice. "I--uh--didn't actually mean to call you. I'm sorry, there's just..."

A sigh from the other end. _"I don't have time for this, intern--"_

"Shh!"

 _"...Excuse me?"_ Hiiro uttered, sounding somewhere between confused and threatening. Emu immediately regretted doing that, but he really didn't want to alert someone who could have a weapon.

"Sorry," he replied hastily. His breath wavered as he spoke. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to hang up. I'll explain at work."

_“Wait, what’s--”_

_Click._

He was probably going to get a scolding for that, later. But he didn’t care about that right now. What he had to do was call the police. Although he supposed it might be bothersome for them if it turned out there really wasn’t anyone else in his house, but maybe they could find clues or something.

One phone call later, everything was silent again as he waited. Emu quickly decided that he hated this part. All the waiting let the anxiety fester in his stomach, all the fears and doubts spin around in his mind. His head still dully throbbed from when he had hit it. If there really was someone else in the house, surely they would have found him at this point, right? Unless they were sleeping or something. That was only a marginally better option.

Eventually, he realized that he would have to open the door for the police when they showed up, or else they might break it down or something—and Emu certainly didn’t want to have to pay for a new one. But that meant traversing his house.

Some bizarrely confident part of his brain kept telling him that it would be fine, as if he had experience with this sort of thing before. Like he could just walk out there and deal with whatever came with no continues.

...Well _that_ was an odd phrase. But somehow, it got him out of his bedroom.

Traversing his house was an... interesting experience. It didn’t take long to figure out that whoever had broken in brought a lot more than their clothes with them. There were legos strewn about (an unexpected obstacle, for sure), a differently colored Mighty Action X plush toy than he remembered buying, and... was that a _mobile?_

After a moment’s inspection, he confirmed that it was, in fact, a mobile. The kind of thing you would put over a baby’s crib to keep them entertained. Right in the far side of the living room.

Did... the burglar have a _baby_ with them?

Emu had never been more thrown off in his life.

Regardless, his living room wasn’t all that big, and he hadn’t come across anyone yet. In fact, he hadn’t heard any noises, either, aside from his own. It was starting to seem more likely that whoever dumped all their stuff on him had already left. He was going to wait by the door until he noticed the white board hanging up on the wall.

It had always been there, and he recognized his own handwriting on it, but... he couldn’t remember writing _this_ on it.

_Parado’s reminders-_

  * _Grocery shopping today! Take Poppy with you this time._
  * _Pick up your_ _legos_ _please!!_
  * _Dirty dishes do not belong on the floor. This is a medical household._



Everything seemed to slow down. If the house had felt quiet before, the silence quickly became deafening. Emu found his brain scrambling for an explanation, but in that moment, he had none. There was no way he could have written this, but it was undeniably _his_ handwriting. The more he tried to explain it, the more questions that kept popping up.

Who was Parado? Who was Poppy, for that matter? Why was their stuff in his house? How could he have written that message—unless it was someone who had managed to replicate it perfectly? Who would do that, and why bother writing something like this?

He had no idea how long he had been staring at the white board before the police showed up. It could have been minutes or hours and Emu probably wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. The search was a haze in his mind, but ultimately, they found no one. Emu really was alone in his house—except for all the evidence that said he wasn’t.

For some reason, he didn’t tell the officers that many things in the house didn’t belong to him. Maybe he didn’t want to keep them any longer, maybe it was because he almost late for work. Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with this right now. Either way, the officers must have thought he was the weirdest guy on the block now, with a mobile out in the open like that. Embarrassing, for sure, but it was the least of his worries.

No, he was far more concerned about how late he was going to be for work, and what he was supposed to do when he came back to a house that didn’t feel like his anymore.


End file.
